Newport Nights I: The Promise

The light of the stars reflected off the waters and played over Dana’s body, casting a pale sheen across her tanned skin. She laughed as she kicked up a spray of sea, her hands pulling her long chestnut mane back off her neck and shoulders.

Nick admired her tall, athletic body in its skimpy red bikini, and felt his cutoffs get a little bit tighter. Knowing no one was watching, he reached down and rubbed his cock through his shorts.

“Nick!” Dana called. “Why don’t you come in here, chickenshit?” She laughed again as she let her hair fall.

Nick swallowed hard before he answered. “Because, woman. Willy hates the cold.” He punctuated this statement with a point to his crotch.

Dana snickered. “I’ll just bet he does. Why don’t you come over here and I’ll … warm him up?”

With a wicked, knowing smile, she moved to the edge of the tide and dropped to her knees in the wet sand before him. Her eyes still on his, she reached for his zipper.

He groaned at the feel of her nails scraping his thighs as she freed his cock. His groan deepened as she took him all the way into her mouth.

His hands twisted in her hair, pulled. “Ohhhh, fuck yeah. Just like that, bitch. Just like that,” he encouraged as she bobbed up and down on his cock. He gave her hair another vicious tug.

Her fingers played over his balls as she sucked him, dancing and tickling and then grabbing him roughly. He moaned through gritted teeth.

Behind them, the tide rose steadily. Dana gasped around his cock as she felt seawater and sand sluice between her toes as the tide washed in and out, but she didn’t waver in her fervent cocksucking. Nick’s back arched in response.

When he could stand it no more, he shoved her head away and shot a magnificent stream of cum into the Pacific. Dana chuckled.

“Never could hold your cum.”

“Har, har,” he returned. “You’re so clever.”

She grinned and got to her feet. “Race you back to the condo.”

**************************************************

The condo they’d rented for the week was called the Davey’s Locker. It was a roomy little place situated right on the beach and decorated in a charming nautical theme. Painted wooden seagulls cavorted with crabs on driftwood and netting; the windows were all brass portholes.

Half-empty pizza boxes and emptier Corona bottles littered every interior surface. A basketball game played across the big screen in the living room; the portable TV in the kitchen was tuned into The Simpsons.

Their sojourn in Davey’s Locker was a belated honeymoon of sorts. They’d eloped to Tahoe three years back, but had gone back to their jobs the next day without any immediate plans to take one. Now, three years later, here they were.

Nick’d never felt happier.

He turned and faced the beach and the woman stepping daintily across it. “Hurry up, woman!” he called through the open door.

Dana scowled at him as she reached him. “I was kidding, you know. Like hell I was gonna run across the beach. What, and kick sand up my crotch? I’ll pass.”

He laughed. “Awww, poor baby. Well, since you decided to walk … I get the big chair.”

Her eyes flashed at his pronouncement. “Like hell you are!”

They both dove for the overstuffed brown leather armchair, colliding in a pile on the floor in front of it. Each frowned at the other.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors for it? What are we, in third grade in here?” She snickered.

“Just do as I say, woman. Winner gets the big chair. Ready?” His hand formed a fist.

“And what does the loser get?” Dana asked.

“The loser gets to give me head,” he returned.

She burst out laughing. “You’re so gonna lose, buddy. Hope you can self-suck.” She formed a fist to match his.

“Ready?” he asked. She nodded. “Rock, Paper, Scissors!” he cried triumphantly, creating a flat piece of paper with his hand.

His face fell when he realized that she’d formed a pair of scissors with hers.

“Sooooooooo,” she fairly purred. “What should I have you do for me, hmmm?” She stroked her chin thoughtfully as she sank into the chair, arranging herself so that her legs hung over the arms.

Nick groaned inwardly. No more head for him tonight.

“Well, I could rub your feet,” he suggested.

“You could,” she replied. “But no. That’s not what I want.” Her lips curved in a smirk. He felt his heart drop into his feet.

“What, um …. What do you want?” he asked.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh …. I think I want to be fucked. Hard. Really, really hard. Right now.” Her eyes glittered with challenge.

He quirked a brow. “Oh, you do, eh? We’ll see about that.”

He rose to his feet and positioned himself between her spread legs.

“You want to be fucked, do you? Hmmmm? Do you?” His fingers moved teasingly over his wife’s chest, just above the swell of her breasts. She barely breathed.

Suddenly, swiftly, he nicked a Corona bottle from the side table and brandished it at her.

“I’ll give you a fucking you’ll never forget, wife of mine.”

And with that, he thrust the bottleneck into her cunt.

Dana screamed and arched her hips. The feel of the cool glass bottle rubbing against her hot, slick pussy was driving her mad. She bit her lip and drove her hips down onto it, silently begging him to give her more.

“Do you like that?” he asked her. “Do you?”

She nodded breathlessly, unable to speak.

“Do you want … more?” Again, she nodded.

Without a word, he shoved the bottle into her until the whole neck was buried – and then he forced it in further.

She cried out, reveling in the sensation; the pleasure and the pain that he gave to her. Her cunt stretched to accommodate the bottle, muscles jerking spasmodically around it.

The bottle and his finger rocketed rhythmically into her hot cunt and ass. “Are you gonna cum for me? Hmmm? Are you?” he breathed into her ear.

He rammed bottle and finger home.

She cried out as the orgasm gripped her.

She collapsed against the chair, spent. Minutes passed with only the labored sound of her breathing, and Nick’s quiet chuckling as he stroked her forehead.

“Dana,” he said softly, after her breathing had slowed and her heart rate returned to normal. “Honey, I want us to do something while we’re here.”

“Yesssssss?” she prompted lazily.

“Honey, I want us to be open to new things … sexually. I want us to spend this time getting to know each other better. You know – exploring our fantasies.” Their eyes met.

She smiled. “Yeah, I do know what you mean, tiger. All right.” She held up her right hand. “I solemnly promise to be open to new things ‘sexually,’ whether they involve animal, vegetable, or mineral. But hopefully not mineral.”